Heartbreak
by strangerslikem3
Summary: "You turn in your seat just enough to steal a glance towards her. A glance becomes a stare, a fixation. She doesn't notice your stare, and she won't. It's unexpected.


You're drawn to her and you don't know why. Well, you know _why_, but it doesn't make sense. Guys like you aren't supposed to be into girls like her. There are strict social structures at Hogwarts and it doesn't work this way. Even without social structures, it doesn't happen. You have nothing in common with girls like her.

You turn in your seat just enough to steal a glance towards her. A glance becomes a stare, a fixation. She doesn't notice your stare, and she won't. It's unexpected.

Her light laugh floats across the room and you wonder what she and her friends are laughing at. You wonder if you could ever make her laugh like that.

She calls herself a nerd, a geek, a dork. But you know that's not true. She just happens to be smart, hardworking, and easily excitable over everything. She has lots of friends, maybe even more than you, and they all seem to simply adore her. It seems like she adores them all back.

You reach the conclusion, one night while staring at the moon, that just because she knows exactly who she is and is comfortable with herself, doesn't mean she's weird.

You think she looks hot when she does herself up and wears makeup. But you love the days where she comes to school without makeup or contacts and she looks absolutely sleep deprived. You aren't really sure why you love seeing her with puffy eyes, acne scars, and half-closed eyes, but you think it has to do with her confidence. She doesn't seem self-conscious or insecure.

For the craziest reason, you love the comments she blurts out. She says what's on her mind, and you don't think there's anything wrong with that.

Suddenly, she looks over at you and notices you staring. She smirks and rolls her eyes and you look down at your textbook quickly. You aren't sure if she was smirking and rolling her eyes about you or her friends, but you hope it's the latter. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her toss her red hair over her shoulder and bend over the desk to write something down.

She and her friends make fun of guys like you. You've heard them describing what "Quidditch gits" wear. She frequently disses jocks and makes derogatory comments about their intelligence. She gets irritated with people when they act stupid.

You love the way she talks loudly and doesn't care. You love the way she carries herself, like she knows she's special, but doesn't want to flaunt it to the world. You love the way her eyebrows furrow when she concentrates and the slow way she answers questions in class. You love the way she always, always has coffee or tea in her travel mug in the first class. You even love the way the coffee smell seems to radiate off of her, and how she always has terrible coffee breath.

"You alright, mate?" your friend next to you suddenly says. You look over at him to see that his eyes follow the path yours took just a minute earlier. "Do you like Lily Evans?" he asks, confused. You don't say anything. "Ugh. She's a total nerd. You're out of her league. She's so weird and awkward, trust me. She had a crush on me last year and she's kind of creepy. I heard she's kind of like the slag of the nerds, though," he says with disgust written on his face. You go to defend her honor, but then realize it would be a futile effort. He's wrong about everything, of course. She's out of your league, not the other way around. She's not a nerd, nor a slag.

"Yeah," you say with a weak smile, not really sure what you're agreeing with.

"Hey, do we have Quidditch practice today?" he asks. You nod. The class continues on in silence between the pair of you, and you're okay with that. Every once in a while you hear her laugh or tell a story and you feel your heart breaking. You reckon you're in love with her.

After class, you find yourself taking extra long to pack up your stuff. It was subconscious, but still had to do with the fact that she was taking a while, too, and all of her friends left already.

Before you can stop yourself, your feet carry you over there and you pause in front of her desk. She looks up and waits for you to say something.

"Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?" you blurt, and she looks taken aback.

"No. Now do I need to tell Sirius that you followed through with the dare?" her face looks exasperated, and you're surprised by what she's assuming.

"I'm serious. I want to go on a date with you," you say, trying to keep the begging out of your voice. You're feeling desperate, and you don't really want to hear what she says next.

"I'm serious, too. I'm sorry, but no," she says, and she does look genuinely sorry.

"But why?" you ask, curious. You can't help yourself.

"I don't date Quidditch players. Or anyone outside of my social group, really. Plus we've never even talked before." You want to correct her, you want to say that you talked last year when you worked on a project together, and you even met up in the library to finish it. But you don't.

"Oh. I'm sorry…" you say, shocked by her blunt words and closed mindedness.

"You're really arrogant, aren't you? Thinking that it's impossible for a girl to say no? Demanding a date?" Her words hang in the air and you speculate on where she got that idea. "Bye." She grabs her bookbag and walks past you out the door.

If you thought your heart was broken before, it was simply ripped to shreds now.

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**Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate a review! :)**


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